


A Few Days In Brooklyn

by avintagekiss24



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Black Character(s), Brooklyn, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Characters Writing Fanfiction, Coffee Shops, F/M, Fights, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 16:32:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15392847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avintagekiss24/pseuds/avintagekiss24
Summary: Living in Brooklyn is all you know. Here's just a look into a few of those days.





	A Few Days In Brooklyn

You’ve always been a daydreamer. You barely made it through high school, always doodling on your work, staring out the window with your chin in your palm and a strand of hair twirled around your finger. How could you not be though? You live in New York. Spider-Man jumps from building to building saving old ladies from muggers. Captain America and The Winter Solider frequent the small hole in the wall bar just a block from where you live. You often see Iron Man streaking through the sky as he returns to the Stark Industries building. How is this world you live in not a fairy tale? How can you not dream?

 

You met him once; the Captain. You work at this coffee shop called Brooklyn’s Finest in the middle of, you know, Brooklyn. It’s a hipster joint, certainly not a place where you’d ever dream of seeing Steve Rogers. You were behind the counter, chin in your palm, eyes plastered on the windows as you worked out a plot twist in your mind for your latest work of erotic fanfiction about _him_. You didn’t even realize he had walked up to the counter. He cleared his throat and you jumped in surprise, standing up straight and blinking your eyes toward him. You look away, starting to recite the greeting until you slam your eyes back toward him again. Your mouth drops open as your big brown eyes widen. He’s so… big. Tall. Wide shoulders. Huge chest. Biceps bulging. His eyes are big too. Blue-green. His dark eyelashes long and wispy. His hair as golden as the sun.

 

 _Stop staring! Fuck!_ You look away and begin to stutter as you feel your face begin to heat up. He chuckles a little as you fumble your way through asking his order, staring down at the POS system in front of you the entire time. That chuckle sent a chill right down your spine that you don’t think you’ll recover from.

 

“Umm,” he hums lightly, his bright eyes scanning the handwritten chalk menu behind you, “I think I’ll just have a black.”

 

You shoot your eyes up at him in surprise. Your brown skin is simply on fire as he cocks his eyebrow toward the ceiling, a confused smirk on his face. _The coffee, you idiot! He meant he’ll take a black coffee not a black girlfriend!_ “A black coffee,” You mumble, “Right. Yeah. Um, that’ll be um, three twenty five.”

 

He handed you the exact change, which you shoved into the cash register before you turned briskly on your heel to pour his cup. You slam your eyes shut trying to will your hand to stop shaking as you poured the hot, black liquid into the Styrofoam cup. You place the top over it with a soft click and move back in front of him, outstretching your hand. He wraps his fingers around the cup, his fingers caressing yours lightly, sending another jolt of electricity through your body. You swallow harshly before sending your eyes toward the counter.

 

“Any s-s-sugar?” You stutter, “Sir?”

 

He takes a sip of the tart nectar and shakes his head, “No thank you ma’am. This is perfect. Have a nice day.”

 

You can’t even respond. You just nod stupidly and smile as he moves out of the shop. Perfect. Captain America said the coffee you made was perfect! You jump up and down a little, twisting your hips as your dance and squeal. Your day has been officially made. You gotta work this into your fanfic somehow.

 

That was months ago now. You never saw him again after that. It’s another Brooklyn day. It’s starting to get cold. The leaves are burnt orange and yellow, but the sun is high in the sky. You pull your leather jacket around you and shove your hands in the pockets as Drake’s In my Feelings fills your ears. You keep your head low, eyes on the pavement before you as you make your way to work. The day is slow, it’s just you on duty with a small group of high school students in the corner, two young businessmen on lunch, and a few college kids tapping away on their laptops. You’re wiping down the counters, humming lightly when a blood curdling scream erupts your peaceful afternoon. You whip your head toward the noise, but don’t have time to react. Something or someone crashes through the windows and door, sending glass and tables and chairs through the air. You duck beneath the counter and cover your head, slamming your eyes closed at the sudden intrusion.

 

You peak up over the counter a few seconds later, your chest heaving, your eyes wide as the scene develops before you. Aliens or robots or whatever the fuck they are, run through the streets. Loud pops sound as bullets whiz through the air. People run as fast as they can past the coffee shop, turning to keep their eyes on the threat. You turn toward the back of the shop, seeing a car door leaning up again the wall. The alien invader stands tall, shaking off it’s rough landing before running back out into the street, not even bothered by you or the other patrons. You forget your phone and your bag, rushing out onto the streets with everyone else. A loud explosion blasts on the corner, a building literally collapses in front of you, causing you to duck again, covering your ears.

 

“Thor!”

 

You hear the Asgardian Gods’ name being screamed and you whip to your left, just in time to see a bolt of lightning cracking through the sky. He lands with a thud so harsh, it rumbles the ground beneath your feet. A shadow distracts you, sending your eyes toward the sky as the young Spider-Man slings from a light post, his body spinning and flipping effortlessly as he shoots his webs toward the enemy. You should run. You should hide. But, you can’t move. You’re frozen from fear and anxiety but also out of awe. You watch as the Black Widow and Hawkeye punch their way through the crowd, throwing alien bodies around like rag dolls. Falcon zips through the air with Iron Man and War Machine. This is incredible. Intensely frightening, but certainly incredible.

 

“Ma’am! Go! Now! Run!”

 

A police officer pushes you harshly, forcing your limbs out of their frozen state. He turns and fires his weapon as you begin to run in the opposite direction. A car flips through the air as explosions continue to sound around you and lands on its roof just in front of you, halting you in your tracks. You scream, covering your head with your hands. It’s one thing to write about events like this, but it’s another to be in the middle of it. You start to run again but your suddenly whisked off the ground, like you weigh nothing. Another scream escapes you as you’re carried higher and higher. You twist in the grip of your attacker and scream again as you realize that one of the earth invaders has you. He scurries up the side of the building like a cat up a tree; it’s claws breaking the bricks and making them crumble.

 

You don’t know why it has you, why it picked you, but suddenly, some forty or fifty stories in the air,  it just lets you go. It’s drops you like a bad habit. Everything moves in slow motion as you reach out for something, anything to grab onto. Your hair flies around your face, your eyes wide, your mouth open as you scream and your body hurls through the air toward your certain death. You don’t see or hear Spider-Man pointing toward you, calling for a certain six foot two, two hundred and forty-pound Brooklynite beneath you. The blonde man whips his head toward his name being called and focuses his eyes on your falling body. He takes off in a sprint, jumping over bricks and fallen light poles, running up a parked SUV before launching himself toward you. He cuts through the air like a knife, twisting and flipping in style as he catches you in midair. You slam against his body as he cradles you in his arms, curling himself around you to take the brunt of your impending landing.

 

You scream again when you finally hit the pavement, rolling and tumbling like a tumbleweed, his body still wrapped around yours. You somehow end up right side up, the blonde man still holding you like a baby in his arms. You look up at him through your hair, hot air bursting through your lips and teeth as you expel it quickly. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulder and neck as you stare at your savior. Your brown eyes are big and watery as they search his.

 

“Are you alright?” He asks softly through his own harsh breathing.

 

You nod quickly and before you can stop yourself, you kiss him. You don’t even know where it came from. You always thought it was ridiculous when the girl kissed the hero in the movies after a near death experience, but here you are, smooching on Captain America after a death drop. He tastes of salt and sweet. An intoxicating mixture. You break away from his bloody lips with a smack and stare back at him as he stares at you.

 

“Thank you.” You whisper breathlessly, still in shock and awe.

 

He sets you down on your feet, pushing you into the lobby of a business building. He tells everyone to stay inside, to stay down, and cover their heads. That someone will be back for them once it’s safe. He makes eye contact with you again and holds it for a few seconds too long.  He nods slightly in your direction and takes off running back toward the fight. You and a few others rush toward the entrance, watching as he runs off, throwing his shield toward one of the aliens and throws himself into a somersault before scissor kicking two aliens in the face.

 

“Holy shit.” One of the teenagers standing with you murmurs.

 

Hours pass. The city is safe once again. The Avengers have cleared out, not wanting the cameras on them. Some kid with an iPhone caught your ordeal on camera and leaked it to the press. Channel three, four, five, eight and eleven surround you, their microphones in your face, shouting questions at you. The paramedics dab at you, clearing your cheek of blood and glass, but they can’t wipe the goofy smile off your lips. Your eyes sparkle as you stand in a dumbstruck haze of emotion.

 

“Captain America saved my life.” You smile widely, letting out a breath as the cameras zoom in on you, “If you’re watching,” You start, staring right into one of the cameras, “Your next coffee is on me.”

 

Months pass. You’re the local celebrity after having your face plastered all over CNN and other news outlets as the girl who kissed Captain America. People are even writing fanfics about you now. You’re back at work, Brooklyn’s Finest is back, better than ever with business booming once people found out you work here. You hand a coffee to a small girl and smile widely at her as she gushes over you and how pretty you are. Asking what it felt like to kiss _the_ Captain America. You shrug, dropping your eyes as you relive the moment over for the ten millionth time in your head, “It’s everything you’d think it’d be.”

 

The girl squeals in delight and moves out with her coffee, leaving you with your thoughts. You turn back toward your line and blink up at the tall man before you. You do a double take as your eyes connect with that familiar blue-green pair. He smirks back at you as all the air leaves your body.

 

“I think you owe me a coffee.”


End file.
